Colin and Martin's London Christmas

To aid the reader’s understanding, here is a brief glossary of some Australian terms used in the story: Arvo—afternoon Beyond the black stump—a long way away Bloke—man Bottler—“your blood is so precious, it’s worth bottling” Chrissie—Christmas Dinkum—genuine, real Galah—stupid, dumb, silly; from the bird of the same name, which has those characteristics Pom or Pommy— Englishman Ridgy-didge— honest, sound, in good working order, legal She’ll be apples—“everything is/will be okay” Sheila—woman Ute—A small open-bed truck Woop Woop—a small place far away that you wouldn’t visit Colin and Martin’s London Christmas By Drew Hunt “This is his grave, love,” Colin said as he stood with Martin in the bitterly cold pet cemetery. Martin knelt down and began to pull out the few weeds that had grown since the last time they’d visited. “Let me give you a hand,” Colin said, kneeling down next to his partner. “No, just go away, please leave me be,” Martin said with an edge in his voice. “I’m sorry, Martin, I…” The rest of Colin’s words dried in his throat; he shook his head and withdrew to a safe distance to watch over Martin. “Hello, Toby, me again,” Martin said to the grave as he worked. With his fingers Martin traced the familiar words on the small brass plaque. Goodnight old pal, sleep well, I’ll be with you in the morning. He choked back a sob. From his vantage point, Colin itched to go to Martin and comfort him, but knew he couldn’t. It had all been his fault. Colin had gone out to work one morning and left the gate open. Later that day, Martin had let Toby out into the garden. Toby was hit by a car, killing the German Shepherd instantly. The driver of the car had been apologetic, even more so when she was told she’d hit a guide dog. After placing the wreath on the patch of cleaned earth, Martin stood up and tried to dust the wet clay from his hands and trouser legs. Colin approached. “Want to go now?” he asked softly. Martin nodded; he took Colin’s arm and they slowly made their way to the car park in silence. “You can change your mind, you know, but I think it’d do us both good, change of scenery and all that,” Colin said, starting the car. “I’m sure the new scenery will be wonderful,” Martin sneered. The pair had agreed to spend Christmas with Colin’s family in London; it had been Colin’s suggestion. He was at his wit’s end to try and salvage his and Martin’s relationship which had soured since the day in early September when Toby had been killed. Although Martin said he forgave Colin for leaving the gate open, his words weren’t matched by his actions. Martin had retreated into himself, and rarely engaged Colin in meaningful conversation. “Martin,” Colin snapped. “That’s below the belt. You’ve always told me that blind people say things like ‘I’ll see you later.’ So don’t get on my case when I use phrases like ‘change of scenery.’ It will be good for us both to get away for a bit, you know it will.” Martin sighed. “Sorry, Col, you’re right.” Colin reached over and squeezed Martin’s knee. * * * * “Martin! It’s good to have you with us again,” Avril, Colin’s mother, said, wrapping Martin up in her arms. She pressed Martin’s head to her ample bosom and squeezed him tight. Colin knew the first time he’d brought Martin to meet his family, the man had been nervous. But now—despite their own difficulties—Colin knew how much Martin loved his parents, and how much Colin’s folks loved Martin. They were relieved Colin had finally found ‘someone decent to be with.’ Though, as his dad had said, “It wasn’t difficult to improve on Simon,” Colin’s last boyfriend. “It’s good to be here again,” Martin said from the pillow of Avril’s breast. “So sorry to hear about Toby. I know our Colin has been beside himself with guilt about it.” Colin winced, he’d hoped his mother would have steered clear of that subject. Avril let Martin loose; he was then engulfed by Harry, Colin’s dad. Colin had to smile at how physically demonstrative his family was. He knew Martin appreciated the being hugged. From what Colin had been able to gather, Martin’s family were rather cold and stand-offish. In the pre-Martin days, whenever Colin had felt lonely, he knew that all he had to do was make a trip back down south to London and his emotional batteries would soon be recharged. “Has Uncle Matt flown in yet?” Colin asked after he’d received his own welcome home hugs. “No, we expect his plane to land about seven o’clock this evening,” Harry said. Colin was anxious to see his uncle; he’d always had a particularly strong bond with the older man. Matt had been the first person Colin had come out to. Matt was gay himself. “I’ll come with you and pick him up if you like, Dad.” “I’d have thought you’d have seen enough of the inside of a car for one day,” Avril said. “You know me, Mum, I love driving. Want to come with us, Martin?” “No, I’ll stay here.” Colin felt hurt, he’d hoped Martin would loosen up a little around his family. “I appreciate you asking, though,” Martin added. “I’m a bit tired.” “Okay, love,” Colin said, feeling a little better. It was probably best that Martin not be there when Colin unburdened himself to his uncle. * * * * Standing in the arrivals hall, Colin looked up at the monitor. The Qantas flight was delayed by an hour. Sighing, he realised he should have checked the flight arrival time before setting out. In the event, Colin had driven to Heathrow airport alone; Harry, who ran a car repair garage, had received a call out. “Probably for the best anyway,” Harry had told Colin. “Most likely you’ll want some time alone with Matt.” Colin had given his dad a hug. The man understood his son so well. Finding a corner table in one of the many cafes, Colin settled down to wait. He couldn’t help noticing two young men sitting rather close to one another, one in a leather jacket and jeans, the other in slacks and a thick woollen pullover. He caught a brief glimpse of the pair holding hands under the table. Smiling to himself Colin remembered the many times he and Martin had stolen a quick feel or a brief kiss in public whenever Colin thought it was safe to do so. He knew it wound Martin up, but Colin was also aware Martin enjoyed the slight danger such things brought. Colin frowned, remembering he and Martin hadn’t done such things since that day. Colin loved his man totally. It was slowly eating away at his insides that the two of them were becoming ever more distant. They rarely made love, and when they did, Martin seemed to do it more out of a sense of duty than anything else. Colin didn’t know how much longer they would last. This trip home was a last-ditch attempt on Colin’s part to save their relationship. Martin had assured Colin he didn’t blame him for Toby’s death, but Colin was under the dual burden of not being able to forgive himself, as well as knowing that deep down, Martin did blame him.